


the merry duchess

by Wikluk



Category: Die Lustige Witwe | The Merry Widow, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Didn't Leave the Jedi Order, Alternate Universe - Crack, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Attempt at Humor, Dead Sheev Palpatine, Everybody Lives, F/M, Fluff, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Order 66 Didn't Happen (Star Wars), The Author Regrets Nothing, mam siano zamiast mózgu, the war is over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:21:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29910678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wikluk/pseuds/Wikluk
Summary: When you're a Jedi, the ball isn't just an occasion to dance. When you're a Jedi, you may lose something at the ball, you may accidentally propose to someone, or you may witness it all and want to drink something stronger than juice.(or fic inspired by Lehár's operetta "The Merry Widow")
Relationships: Bail Organa/Breha Organa, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 21
Kudos: 46





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my poor, unfortunate souls!  
> Welcome to my short fanfic inspired by Lehár's operetta "The Merry Widow".  
> I have no idea why I wrote this. I have no idea if this story makes any sense. I have no idea if my sense of humour makes anyone laugh (everything sounds better in my head lol), and I have no idea how crack works.  
> Happy reading! ♥  
> (yes, twins are not there yet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it all begins...

The end of the war has always been something worth celebrating, and the Galaxy Far, Far Away was no different.

Therefore, when the emotions after the fall and death of Chancellor Palpatine–who  _ by the way _ turned out to be the Sith Lord searched for years by the Jedi and who,  _ as it turned out _ , intended to transform the Republic into an Empire, for years pulling the strings of both sides of the conflict–the Senate of the Republic, under the command of Mon Mothma, decided to hold a ball.

The organization of the event was granted to the new Chancellor's deputy, Senator of Spicio, Rush Clovis. Everyone knew that where Rush Clovis appeared, there was also the senator of Naboo, Padmé Amidala.

The two had a friendship that had started a few years before the Clone Wars began, but there were rumours that it was a  _ friendship with benefits _ .

Admittedly, no one had ever seen anything happen between the two, but their friendship was suspect anyway. Especially since Rush Clovis was acting like a lovestruck teenager around her.

_ Poor him. _

Coming back to the consequences of the war. What was crucial in the time of peace and was an integral part of politics?

Political marriages.

Therefore, at this ball, each unmarried individual could feel threatened by the prospect of being surrounded by a crowd of admirers.

For example, the Duchess of Mandalore, Satine Kryze.

Tall, slim, with appealing, cool beauty. Many would say that the hottest fire burnt under this cold façade. 

Was it true? 

It was hard to say because unknown was the person who would come close  _ enough _ and  _ in this regard _ to the Duchess. 

However, Mandalore, now pacifist and recovering slowly after centuries of wars that had almost razed it to the ground, along with the numerous deposits of the beskar, with the ships and jetpacks trading, with unusual architecture, was a tempting morsel.

Politically, it was not too bad either. Certainly, marrying a Duchess would bring many benefits.

So many have thought, and so did the Jedi Order.

The war made them change. Realizing that they had been blind for many years and lost themselves to politics and other things that were not fit for the Jedi, the Order decided to change _the_ _Code_.

It became possible to form romantic relationships and start families. The only condition was not to get possessive. Hard but not impossible.

And since it could benefit... 

The Jedi sent three of their most distinguished representatives to the ball.

A Hero With No Fear, Anakin Skywalker.

The Great Negotiator, Obi-Wan Kenobi.

And The One With Common Sense, a person who had more than two brain cells and therefore made up for her Master and her Grandmaster, Ahsoka Tano.

Anyone with eyes could see Anakin Skywalker salivated like a little bantha at the sight of milk at Senator Padmé Amidala.

Anyone with ears could hear how Obi-Wan Kenobi's voice shifted abruptly as he talked to Duchess Satine Kryze.

And anyone who had eyes and ears noticed how crazy poor Ahsoka was driven by these two men when they behaved near those women as if they had suddenly regressed to the age of younglings in the Temple Creche.

The ball began at sunset, and it had to be admitted that the setting sun of Coruscant created an almost amorous and exceptionally beautiful sight. 

Ahsoka Tano and Anakin Skywalker were making their way through the crowd of beautifully dressed creatures who, with glasses of various beverages in their hands, were talking lively in pairs or groups. 

At one point, Anakin stopped so suddenly that Ahsoka almost bumped into him.

“Skyguy, what are you doing?” she muttered, nudging her fist against the back of his arm.

Anakin turned to face her, but his gaze flickered above her head. “Where's Obi-Wan?”

“What–” Ahsoka looked around as well, realizing that Obi-Wan had disappeared. “He was right behind me!”

“I can't see him anywhere,” Anakin muttered, twirling around. 

Ahsoka frowned her white marked eyebrows. “But why would he run away without saying a word? Maybe someone accosted him on the way?”

Anakin nodded his head absently, then suddenly his face broke into a smile. “I think I know why he escaped from us.”

“Oh?”

“Look to the left, Snips,” Anakin said in a particularly pleased voice.

Ahsoka turned in the direction her Master was looking, but she had to tiptoe a little when a Bith a little shorter than her stood straight in front of her, blocking her view. 

And here a few meters away, surrounded by a wreath of men, stood the Duchess of Mandalore, Satine Kryze herself.

Ahsoka looked her from toes to the top of her head, opening her mouth slightly.

Duchess Satine literally shone in a beautiful, flared blue gown marked with numerous glistening silver and gold patterns. The slowly setting sun in one of the windows cast a light on her, outlining her long, slender legs visible through the skirt of her dress. The short, wide sleeves of the dress looked as if they were a short cape over her bare shoulders, equally glittering in the light. 

Her hair–now much longer than when Ahsoka last saw her–was loose on her shoulders, and was tied around it with equally subtle silver and gold headband.

“Oh Force,” Ahsoka whispered.

“Oh Force,” Anakin whispered back, then turned to his apprentice with a suggestive smile on his lips. “Snips, I have a plan.”

“Oh no,” Ahsoka replied dryly, guessing what was going on in her master's mind. “I don't want to hear it.”

“Oh, don't be like that,” Anakin replied, changing the tone of his voice. “Sniiiiips….”

Ahsoka knew this trick very well. She crossed her arms over her chest and brought a stern expression to her face.

“No.”

“Ahsoka…”

“No, Skyguy.”

“Ahsoka, pleeease…” Anakin continued, making his most pleading expression, which always reminded Ahsoka of a little loth-cat asking for food. “Please…”

Ahsoka took a deep breath. Today she felt exceptionally good-natured. “Alright. What should I do?”

“Find Obi-Wan and bring him here. He has to talk to the Duchess.”

Ahsoka raised one eyebrow at him. 

Anakin looked at her in surprise. “What?”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you going to stand here in the middle of the room all this time and stare at her? It’s creepy, Skyguy.”

Anakin only smiled. “None of your business, Snips,” he said lightly. “Go find Obi-Wan.”

Ahsoka looked at him suspiciously, but nodded and turned away from him. She looked over her shoulder once as she walked away, but Anakin stood in the same place with that strange smile, watching her walk away.

_ Weird. _

**x x x x x**

Anakin bravely resisted the suspicious look Ahsoka thrown over her shoulder at him, and as soon as she disappeared behind the first group of guests, he immediately turned on his heel and started walking in the opposite direction.

After only a dozen or so seconds, he got out of the crowd, going to a slightly more secluded place at the table with sweets.

He noticed a tiny brunette beside the table, watching the sweets, wondering what of all these goodies was the most profitable to eat.

Anakin approached her in a few quick steps and, stopping behind her, bent over her shoulder. “Hello, dear senator.”

Padmé Amidala straightened, turning to face him so quickly that she would have almost crashed onto the table if Anakin had not grasped her elbow, stabilizing her in place.

“Oh my stars, Ani!” she hissed, waving some cupcake menacingly in front of his face. “Don't ever do that again!”

“Okay,” Anakin smiled slightly, focusing on the cupcake still floating in front of his face. “What have you got here?” he asked, leaning over to bite it.

“Ah, that's my prey. The last one with chocolate cream,” she said, taking her hand away from his face. “Find yourself another, there are plenty of them.”

“But stolen one tastes better…”

Padmé stared at him for a moment, then with a sigh, handed him a cupcake. As he was about to bite it, she suddenly snatched the cake from his hand and sank her teeth into it.

“Mmmm,” she muttered, looking him straight in the eye. “You were right,” she said between bites. “When stolen, it tastes twice as good.”

Anakin parted his mouth, looking like a fish pulled out of the water. 

Padmé laughed and tapped him lightly on the shoulder, turning to the table again. “Come here, we'll find you something good.”

Anakin approached the table and for a moment they both looked at the plates with all kinds of sweets. 

But he wasn't interested in sweets. He was interested in her. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Padmé noticed his vague gaze and turned her head to him. “Yes?”

“I have something for you, Angel.”

Padmé raised her eyebrows but did not comment on his confession, so Anakin pulled a small box from a pocket of his robes. He opened it to reveal a silver ring with a small crystal as black as the Galaxy.

“This is for me?” she asked softly, clearly surprised at this turn of events. “Oh, Ani, it's beautiful.”

“My wife deserves only beautiful things,” he said softly, looking at her with a smile, giving her the box. 

“I love you too,” she replied after a while, giving him a warm smile and taking the gift from his hands. But then she furrowed her eyebrows. “Oh, what am I going to do with Rush?”

Anakin frowned. “Clovis?”

Padmé nodded. “I told you he told me he was in love with me. Then I put him off saying I don't feel the same, but he still thinks he has a chance…”

“Then tell him he missed that chance,” he replied with a shrug. “And that's a good three years ago.”

“It's not that simple…” she said in a worried voice, then sighed. “But alright, I'll tell him after the ball.”

“Great,” Anakin smiled at her, then took a deep breath with renewed energy. “Give me the ring, I'll put it on your finger.”

Padmé smiled, then turned her head towards the table. Her expression changed drastically. “Oh no!”

“What?” Anakin frowned as he glanced at the table, then at her. “What happened?”

“I put it on the table and now it's gone!”

“Maybe it fell…” Anakin muttered, stepping back from her and checking the floor around. He even bent to peer under the table. The box with the ring was nowhere to be found. “Kriff.”

Padmé looked at him. Anakin looked at her. Suddenly something caught his attention over her shoulder. 

“I can see them!” he said, looking quickly at her. “The waiter droid took it, there it goes!”

They both gave a slow, unsuspicious pursuit.

**x x x x x**

Bail Organa sat at a table waiting for his wife's return, slowly drinking red Alderaanian wine. In front of him, on the dance floor, several pairs were dancing to the rhythm of some lively music. 

Suddenly, a droid stopped in front of his table, tray in its hand. As usual, it took two plates with some salad and a small velvet box from the tray and placed them in front of Breha’s chair. 

Then it left without a word.

Bail took the box in his hand and opened it, curious about its possible contents. He was surprised to see a silver ring sticking out of a black cushion.

But he was even more surprised as he glanced at the poem engraved on the inside of the package lid.

“ _ I see you in my thoughts and dreams. _

_ When I awake, how real it seems. _

_ You aren't here to comfort me, _

_ But soon I hope you will be. _ ”

Bail blinked a few times, reading the text a second time, then a third time, then finally squinted around him. He hadn't seen anyone suspect anywhere who might have had this box handed over to his wife, but…

Still, he felt a twinge of jealousy. After all, Breha was a beautiful woman and someone might like her. Which, in turn, did not sit well with him.

He looked around again and noticed the new Deputy Chancellor walking near his table.

“Rush!” he exclaimed, waving his hand at the younger man, asking him to come closer. “Hello.”

“Hello, Bail,” Rush smiled at him. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” replied Bail, glancing at the box. “Or not that much. The droid brought a box of some jewellery here, put it on Breha's plate. Inside is a poem that looks like some sort of love letter…”

Rush, seeing the moment of hesitation in the senator's eyes, also glanced at the box and brought a smile to his face. “Oh, I know who it belongs to! It's a mistake, my friend. This silly droid must have made a mistake.”

A look of relief crossed Bail's face and Rush sighed as he took the box from him. One crisis resolved. 

“Ah, those droids,” he said with a soft laugh.

_ Stupid tins. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poem - My Dearest Love, Sherri Brown  
> I'd love to hear your thoughts. To be honest, I'd love any feedback.  
> I love you all. You're all b r e a t h t a k i n g.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ahsoka is done, Anakin doesn't understand, Padmé is playing matchmaker, Obi-Wan doesn't know what he is doing, and Satine is speechless for the first time in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say except... poor Ahsoka!  
> And Obi-Wan is so messed up. Poor him. He doesn't make any sense until his pride comes into the way. And his jealousy. And his complicated emotions. Huh. (Idk either)
> 
> And happy Women's Day, my dear kitties. I wish you much success, respect and the best of everything!

Ahsoka walked into the crowd of guests gathered in the room with an extremely irritated expression on her face. It was probably because of her expression that no one even tried to stop her for even the shortest conversation.

As she walked forward and looked sideways for Obi-Wan, Ahsoka thought about Anakin and how naive he found her.

Ahsoka knew perfectly well that the only reason they split up was that Anakin wanted to go to his  _ favourite _ senator. She was not blind, and Anakin was never subtle anyway, and as soon as Padmé Amidala appeared in his sight, he stared at her like, like…

Like Obi-Wan stared at Duchess Satine.

It means as if she were the only person in the Galaxy.

Ahsoka huffed.

_ Why did adults have to be so complicated? And why were grown men as stubborn as these two? Especially now that the Jedi Order has decided to change the Code, so both of them could just go out with their other half to the streets of Coruscant and kiss them in the middle of the street, preferably in front of a reporter's camera. Then at least they wouldn't have to officially announce anything and in the holonet… Ha! They would become celebrities in a holonet. And– _

The music in the hall changed from slow to more lively, well-known for Ahsoka from holoradio, and more couples having fun went to the dance floor to dance in a slightly more carefree way.

Ahsoka smiled when she caught sight of Riyo Chuchi dancing with some few-years-old girl on the left. Riyo once told her she had a younger sister. It seemed that it was her because both Pantoran girls looked as if they were having a great time.

Riyo noticed her at one point and waved to her, motioning her sister to do the same. The girl smiled cheerfully at Ahsoka, then took Senator of Pantora to dance again.

Ahsoka went on.

To the left were the dancers, to the right were the dancers, and in front of her…

And in front of her, at the drink table, was Obi-Wan.

Ahsoka stood behind him and folded her hands on her chest. She coughed.

Obi-Wan turned to her with a smile. “Hello, Ahsoka. Are you having fun?”

“Yeah,” she replied, staring critically at the drink in his hand. “And you?”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan replied, taking a sip of the alcohol. “They have good drinks here. I also saw some non-alcoholic. Do you want one?”

“No thanks.” 

There was silence.

Obi-Wan sipped his drink slowly while Ahsoka stared at him stubbornly.

Finally, the Jedi Master sighed. “What is it?”

“Why are you hiding here?”

Obi-Wan choked on the next sip, staring at her in surprise. “I’m doing  _ what _ ?”

“You're hiding,” Ahsoka repeated, narrowing her eyes at him. “Is there another reason for you to be standing in perhaps the most isolated place in this room, which–purely by chance–is the farthest point in this room from a certain duchess?”

Obi-Wan snorted, taking another sip of his drink, although his eyes flicked briefly to where Satine was standing. “It's completely untrue, grandpadawan mine.”

_ Okay, now the drink doesn't seem like such a bad option at all. _

“Mmh,” she muttered as she walked over to the table and picked up one glass from the tray. “Let's just say you're  _ not _ hiding here. However, you are certainly avoiding her. Why?”

“I'm not avoiding anyone. Where this idea came from?”

Ahsoka raised her eyebrows, looking up at him over her glass. 

“Don't look at me like that,” he muttered, setting down the empty glass and folding his arms over his chest. “Where's Anakin?”

Ahsoka sighed, clearly annoyed by the sudden change of subject. “He went to see his girlfriend,” she said in a neutral voice, stirring the contents of the glass with a gentle movement of her wrist.

“To his–” Obi-Wan stuttered. “Who?”

“Really, Obi-Wan?” Ahsoka turned her head towards him. “I'm talking about Padmé.”

_ Because Anakin is soooo subtle… _

Obi-Wan didn't answer.

Ahsoka closed her eyes and took a long sip.

**x x x x x**

“And where's that droid?”

“I don't know, I can't see it.”

“Anakin…”

Anakin looked at the brunette walking beside him. “What? I wasn't the one who put that box on the table!”

Padmé looked at him irritably. “Yes, I know it was stupid, but I didn't think a pile of scrap metal would take it away just from under my nose!”

“A pile of scrap metal? That’s your opinion on droids?” Anakin snorted. “What about Threepio and Artoo?”

“Yes, I know Ani, your droids are special,” she said rolling her eyes. “Now we have a bigger problem to deal with.”

“Not anymore,” Anakin replied quickly, staring straight ahead. “Rush Clovis has this box.”

“Rush–” repeated Padmé, and grabbed Anakin's arm before he could even take a step. “Where do you think you are going?!”

Anakin blinked. “To take back the box?”

“You cannot!” she said softly, her brown eyes full of panic. “He can't find out. Not today!”

Anakin frowned. “What's the difference?”

“Oh, Ani, you don't understand anything,” she said more to herself, then took a deep breath. “Well. Let's think... Knowing Rush, he'll take this box to the security office. They collect such lost things there. So after the ball, you will walk over there, pick up the box and everything will be fine.”

“I can do it now…”

“No!” Padmé put her hands on his shoulders. “No, not now.” She looked around and a small smile appeared on her face. “Oh look, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan!”

She raised her hand and waved. Anakin glanced over his shoulder and flashed a smile at his friends, then turned to Padmé, frowning again. “Okay then I'll go later.” he agreed, then glanced over his shoulder and smiled again. “Padmé, you have to help me with something.”

“Oh?” she raised her eyebrows at him curiously. “I'm all ears.”

“Obi-Wan needs to marry Satine.”

“Marry?” the senator's eyes sparkled, and a dreamy smile appeared on her face. “Oh, double dates!”

Anakin blinked. “What?”

Padmé also blinked. “Nothing,” she said quickly, smiling sweetly. “Obi-Wan and Satine, you say…”

“Yes,” Anakin confirmed, leaning closer to her to whisper in her ear. “Obi-Wan loves her. And he has loved her for many years. He's just too stubborn to admit it.”

She raised her eyebrows with a smile. “How do  _ you _ know that?”

Anakin placed his mechanical hand over his heart. “I just know,” he said seriously, and Padmé chuckled. “Ah, Angel, you didn't see them then, on the Coronet…”

“Well, it would be hard, since I was in the Senate then.”

“Haha,” Anakin muttered. “So, will you help me?”

Padmé straightened proudly and, placing her hand on her neckline, she said gravely. “Matchmaker is my middle name.”

**x x x x x**

Satine liked balls. Really. 

She loved to dance, taste all these dishes, admire the architecture or listen to beautiful music flowing in waves around the ballrooms.

But if there was anything in the balls that tormented her, irritated her, and made her wish that her love of food had thrown her into such a trap again, it was all the crowds.

And not just any crowds, but crowds of admirers.

Satine sighed, accepting a compliment from another of the many men who tried to have a more or less intellectually stimulating conversation with her today.

_ They were all the same. _

Seeing a single, unmarried woman who had a position and fortune inherited from an entire–mostly deceased–family, they went crazy.

They were so nice right away, so gallant. They wanted to kiss her hands, they paid her compliments, sent her their beautiful, snow-white smiles.

Satine welcomed each of them with innate elegance. 

She sipped champagne slowly, sometimes giggling or fluttering her eyelashes. She paced the room with a slow, sensual stride, hoping to attract the attention of this one particular man.

But Obi-Wan was nowhere to be seen.

So she let go of the search, again going back to the wreath of admirers who were trying to get her attention.

She had no doubts about their intentions. 

Neither of them was interested in her, although they may have seen her as a sight to behold. And not only for the eye.

But Satine knew they were most interested in money and the social advancement that marriage to her would give them.

_ What a pity that they will never get this honour. _

Today, exceptionally, Satine did not dance with anyone. Many tried to drag her to the dance floor, charmed her with kind words, convinced her that music was conducive to making friends, but she preferred to manoeuvre around the tables and devote herself to the only activity that gave her joy at the moment.

Eating.

She was reaching for another chocolate-covered fruit, nodding her head to the words of another gentleman, who was telling her incredible stories about how he heroically saved the family from a fire when she heard a well-known voice behind her.

“Satine!”

She turned, sending the man on the way–now she noticed he was blond–an apologetic smile, then walked over to the brunette.

“Padmé!” She said warmly, embracing her friend in greeting. “You saved me,” she whispered in her ear, then straightened proudly.

“It's a collective effort.” Padmé smiled, glancing back. Only now did Satine notice the three Jedi standing behind Senator of Naboo. 

Ahsoka, clearly older now than the last time she had seen her.

Anakin, with longer hair than the last time she saw him.

And…

And Obi-Wan, whom she hadn't seen in person for almost two years. Since then, his beautiful auburn hair has turned to grey at the temples. He also had more wrinkles on his face.

But, she had to admit, he was consistently handsome.

And he was staring straight at her.

“Obi-Wan,” she said softly, and her voice awakened him from the strange trance he had been in so far. 

He bowed his head. “Your Highness.”

Satine raised an eyebrow. “Why these formalities?”

“We're in a formal situation.”

“At the ball, hmm?” she hummed smiling slightly. “Some would say it is the best opportunity to  _ end _ formalities.”

Obi-Wan gave her a strange look, his confused gaze suddenly turning to firm. Something sparkled in his eyes as if he had remembered something. And then...

“The Jedi Order would like me to marry you, but I'm not going to marry just for their benefit.”

“I–” Satine frowned, feeling confused and angry at the same time. “Pardon?”

_ How dare them? _

She was not a bargaining chip or a trophy of some sort. She was not going to get married for political reasons.

“I will not marry you for someone else's benefit.” he repeated.

Satine took a sharp breath, clenching her jaw. “I wouldn't marry you until you proved to me that you really love me.”

“That's great.” he replied looking at her with this infuriating look on his face. “So now since everything is clear...”

“Clear? What are you–” Satine wanted to ask him what he meant, but then Obi-Wan grabbed the collar of his robes and tugged it lightly and she noticed that something flashed around his neck. 

Ignoring all the guests staring at them, she reached a hand to his neck and tugged on the chain, pulling it over the top of her robes. The lump in his throat jumped violently as he swallowed hard.

Satine smiled as she looked at the chain and then straight into his eyes. “You still have it.”

The chain was a gift she gave him when they finally returned to Sundari after a year of hiding in different planets of Mandalore, and she decided she needed to give him a gift for his last birthday.

The fact that he still had it and that he wore it...

“But of course,” he looked a little lost, but before he said anything else, there was a crack of speakers.

_ “Ah, now our favourite switching dance… Ladies’ choice, so do not get too confident… and too attached!” _

Satine noticed several of the men she had spoken to before looking at her with smiles–it seemed she was also a very welcome dance partner–but she was so fixed on getting answers out of this man that she didn’t even consider their candidacy. “Obi-Wan, will you dance with me?”

Obi-Wan met her eyes for a split second and then straightened proudly. “No, I’m sorry.”

Satine's eyes widened, not believing the words she heard, but before she could ask him to repeat it, he was already disappearing into the crowd of guests.

Padmé looked at Anakin. “Did you say anything about love?” she hissed, squinting at him.

Anakin rubbed his forehead with his hand. “But I also told you that Obi-Wan is terribly stubborn.”

“And now he is dancing with Chancellor Mothma.” Ahsoka finished and the three of them looked to the centre of the room, where indeed the Jedi was dancing with Mon Mothma.

Padmé decided to improvise and gave Anakin an elbow to the side. “Dance with Satine,” she whispered, nodding her head at the still shocked blonde.

“But–”

Padmé elbowed him again, effectively silencing him. “Dance with her, get closer to Obi-Wan and then you will switch partners”

“Oh…” Anakin said slowly, now understanding her plan. He smiled at her. “Okay.”

Then he straightened proudly and, with his most charming smile, walked over to Satine. “Can I have this dance?”

Satine smiled tightly but nodded. “Of course.”

And they both disappeared onto the dance floor, where more and more couples were appearing now.

“Do you think this will work?” Ahsoka asked, standing next to Padmé. 

The Senator nodded confidently. “He won't run away from her forever.”

**x x x x x**

As it turned out, Obi-Wan was pretty good at escaping.

As soon as Anakin and Satine approached him, he exchanged partners with a man, now leading the young Twi'Lek in a dance.

Satine exhaled loudly, and Anakin smiled but didn't say a word.

On the next occasion, Obi-Wan escaped them again, this time taking over the young senator, Riyo Chuchi, in a dance.

Anakin chased the man away from them with a hard look, who wanted to take Satine and give him to dance the unknown Rodian. 

_ Oh no, he wasn't going to let the duchess out of his hands if her next partner wasn't his master. _

They wandered around the dance floor several times, getting closer to Obi-Wan again.

The Jedi Master traded partners before they got close enough to him, but eventually, Obi-Wan ran out of ladies to choose from, and as he was too proud to escape the dance floor, he sighed and decided to trade with Anakin.

In front of him, ready to dance, as beautiful as looking utterly irritated, stood Satine Kryze.

Obi-Wan looked around quickly, noticing the still few men looking at her, hoping to get that one dance. 

Driven by Satine's well-being–although his jealousy would be a better word–he turned to the crowd and spoke quite loudly. “I will give up this dance for ten thousand credits.”

The expressions that appeared on the faces of the would-be admirers were a sufficient answer. They disappeared like a soap bubble floating above the bathtub for a few seconds.

Obi-Wan turned to Satine.

“May I have this dance?”

She raised both eyebrows at him, confusion, irritation and fury in her blue eyes. But after a while she tilted her head slightly, and when she breathed, her gaze became softer. “I will give you this honour.”

Obi-Wan embraced her and they both sailed gracefully across the hall, closely watched by the whispering crowd surrounding them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I don't know what I'm writing and they don't know what they're doing. Equality and balance first of all.)


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-Wan gets a mission, Satine tells a suspicious-sounding legend, and the problematic ring is a pain in the butt. Literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing in my defence except that poor Obi-Wan has no free time even at the ball, poor Anakin feels the power of cringe, and Satine tells a legend that I enjoyed writing. It doesn't bring much (unless you like hidden-meanings hehehe), but it ends up nicely.......... oh wait, it doesn't bc THE RING.

The first round of dancing ended as the first stars flashed across the Coruscant sky.

Most of the guests rushed back to the tables to enjoy the various dishes that landed in front of their noses.

Rush Clovis paced slowly along the edge of the room, the box with the ring in the pocket of his robes, still not sure what to do with it.

Theoretically, he could leave it somewhere. It even sounded like a good idea, but…

What if this box was very important to someone and someone wanted to find it quickly? What if it was supposed to be an engagement ring and now the mysterious someone was going at their wit end because all their plans had suddenly came to grief?

Perhaps the Jedi might find the owner of the jewellery faster, Rush thought.

After all, they had these strange powers with which they could space someone out or summon something, so they _ surely _ could find the owner of some minor loss.

He looked around the room.

Finally, he noticed that a red-haired Jedi Master was walking towards the tables from the side of the refreshers.

“Master Kenobi!” he exclaimed, quickening his pace a little. “Master Kenobi, can I have a word?”

“Senator Clovis.” Obi-Wan Kenobi inclined his head. “How can I help you?”

“Ah, well,” he smiled, opting for the easier version of the story. “I found a box with a ring in the ballroom and I'm looking for its owner.”

As he spoke, he took a small box out of the pockets of his robes and held it a little higher for the Jedi to see better.

Master Kenobi frowned. 

“Hmm, that's definitely not mine.”

“Oh, I know,” he replied. The redhead raised one eyebrow. “I don’t mean that you wouldn't want to give that ring to someone, just that it’s... Well…”

“Unlikely?” finished the Jedi, now raising his other eyebrow. 

“Ah, no.” Rush closed his eyes, wanting to slap his hand on his forehead right now. It wouldn't be diplomatic enough, though, so he brought a smile back to his lips. “I was wondering if you could find the owner of this little thing.”

“Me?”

“Yes,” he replied, holding his gaze bravely. “After all, you, Jedi, have these funny abilities of yours that we, mere mortals, are not gifted with, so…”

Master Kenobi looked at the box, then at him, then back at the box, and finally sighed.

“Fine,” he said, taking the box from his hand. “I will eat the main course and then look for the owner.”

“Great!” 

**x x x x x**

Obi-Wan had never been a fan of balls, but he thought there were things worse than them.

Random missions at balls, for example.

He didn't know why he had agreed to waste his time looking for the owner of a ring, especially while he was no Quinlan Vos, and he had absolutely no ability to reading merely touched objects, which made matters even more complicated.

In moments like this, he wished he had the psychometry, but then remembered all these stories that Quinlan told him sometimes while they went for drinks at a bar on the lower levels of Coruscant...

Like one in which Quinlan was forced to find a golden whip with a handle encrusted with diamonds. He was convinced that he was looking for a valuable family heirloom, or so told him that Devaronian woman when she entrusted him with the task. She did not mention that the whip was not only decoration, on the contrary, but it was rather used quite often by her. Poor Quinlan got to know its uses the moment his hand tightened on the jewelled grip. His pained expression as he told this, Obi-Wan remembered to that day.

Obi-Wan realized that he was smiling to himself when he heard a cough, and after turning his head, he saw his former apprentice and this apprentice's current padawan standing with their arms crossed over their chests, smiling at him.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan muttered, mimicking their position. “Have you been standing here long?”

Anakin exchanged knowing looks with Ahsoka. “Long enough to see you grinning all the way.”

“Yes,” Ahsoka confirmed, looking at him with a twinkle in her blue eyes. “How are your conversations with the Duchess?”

Obi-Wan felt the tips of his ears burn, but decided not to give up so easily.

_ If they want to play that way… _

“Fine,” he replied nonchalantly. “The Duchess is a very lovely interlocutor and has a lot of interesting things to say.”

Anakin grimaced. “Just don't tell me you were talking about politics again.”

“Again?” Obi-Wan croaked and cleared his throat quickly. “What do you mean  _ again _ ?”

“I am reminded of your strange conversations on the Coronet,” Anakin said, raising his eyebrows at him. And it was the worst flirt I've ever seen.”

“Flirt–” Obi-Wan took a sharp breath. “The worst?!”

“Yeah,” Anakin replied. “Everything you two said sounded like insults. By  _ far _ the worst flirt I've ever seen.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, then smiled as he looked Anakin straight in the eye. From the lines at the corner of his eyes, Anakin knew trouble was coming.

“I’ve just remembered a certain meeting,” Obi-Wan began innocently, frowning in mock reverie. “I believe it was some time before the war started. I think we were going to meet Senator Amidala after the attempt at her life…”

Anakin paled. “Obi-Wan, no–”

_ Obi-Wan, yes. _

“How did it go?” Obi-Wan stroked his chin, staring at the floor for a moment. “ _ So have you, grown more beautiful, I mean. For a senator… I mean. _ ”

Ahsoka laughed, and when Anakin shot her a look, she was covering her mouth with her hand.

“Very funny, Snips,” he muttered, shifting his gaze to Obi-Wan. “Thank you for ruining my reputation, Master.”

“You’re welcome, my friend,” Obi-Wan answered lightly. “You can always count on me and my unfailing memory.”

“And can this unfailing memory of yours tell us, for example, why were you grinning like a tooka? Does it have something to do with a  _ certain Duchess _ ?”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “I don't think you two want to know the reason for my good humour  _ and _ I have something to do–”

“Something to do, you say.” Anakin wiggled his eyebrows.

Obi-Wan pinched his nose.

“Master, let’s meet on the roof at 2100. We’ll talk then,” he suggested smugly.

“Anakin, I have nothing to talk about.”

“Yeah, sure.” 

“See you later,” said Ahsoka and both she and Anakin left him alone, smiling all along.

“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan whispered to himself.

**x x x x x**

“Duchess Satine,” the young Nautolan said, staring at her with her huge black eyes. “I've heard that Mandalore is famous for its many legends. Could you tell us some?”

Satine looked around. A dozen or so faces stared at her expectantly, and the same curiosity was visible in their differently coloured, differently shaped eyes.

_ A legend... Well, why not? _

“Of course,” she replied, smiling politely. Several of the beings returned the smile. “What kind of legend do you prefer to hear?”

“Scary.” the young Rodian answered.

“Suspenseful.” suggested the Nautolan woman.

“About love…” whispered a soft little voice.

Satine turned her head and saw a young, several-year-old Pantoran girl, whose golden, wide eyes stared at her with the intensity characteristic of a child. 

The girl was smiling a little shyly at her, her pale pink hair falling over her face. Satine smiled back and reached a hand to her face to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“About love, hmm?” the girl nodded, and Satine looked around her little audience with raised eyebrows. Nobody tried to protest. “So be it. I will tell you a legend that was told when the Mandalorians still believed in many gods who created our system and watched over it.”

Satine remembered perfectly well how much she liked this period in their history, and how much she enjoyed reading myths and legends, dreaming that some of them would happen to her.

She breathed deeply, looking at the young Pantoran. “Once upon a time, when Mandalore was not a lifeless desert, and its surface was covered with dense, beautiful forests, among many trees, by a great lake, in a mighty fortress lived the goddess of war, Akaan. She was said to shed blood as if it was water, and to have a heart as hard as the best  _ beskar’gam _ , our armour. She had exceptional favours for warriors, she valued her people's courage, strength and determination. Those who prayed to her received her blessing, which was a priceless gift on the battlefield.

“Akaan was a beautiful woman, tall, round, with swarthy skin and curly hair, black like the Galaxy. She had a strict face, with sharp features, but what made her really stand out the most were her eyes. Beautiful blue eyes the colour of the tropical sea.”

“Like yours?” the little Pantoran interrupted her.

Satine looked down. “Mine?”

“Your eyes. They are also blue and beautiful.”

Satine smiled. “Thank you. But my eyes are quite ordinary, I'm not a goddess after all,” she replied, then returned to her tone of telling the story. “Akaan couldn't have ordinary eyes. Apparently, they were so clear and so blue that you could see them even at night, in the darkest shadows. She could look deeply into someone's soul with them, she could read someone's thoughts, she could see someone's heart. And she could also win this heart.

“Akaan, as I said, was a goddess of war. The conflicts in which she participated were always bloody, but also always victorious. She was cruel and inhuman in her actions, which was nothing strange for the goddess. After all, these weren't humanly creatures. Akaan had no love in her heart. She did not have time for it and considered it a weakness. She said that love is unnecessarily distracting, and a distracted warrior dies quickly, so they do not fulfil their role.”

Satine looked around at her audience. She noticed that the little circle had grown a bit larger, and a few more beings had stopped somewhere in the back to hear her story. 

She almost felt like a mother reading to her children to sleep.

“And although Akaan did not love anyone, she was loved by many. The unfortunate were those men who fell victim to her heart that was unable to return their affections. But then a man showed up. A tall, well-built, handsome, experienced warrior who was not afraid of any encounter and was not afraid of death. His name was Cyare and he was a new general of Mandalorian army. 

“It was hate at first sight. Akaan believed that Cyare was arrogant and that he was trying to prove at every turn that he was smarter than her, that he was a better fighter than she was, which hurt her pride and made her absolutely angry. Wanting to humiliate him and show him his place, Akaan ordered Cyare to face her in a duel. The man agreed and they stood in front of each other in the arena at noon the next day. The fight was fierce, but no one was winning it. Akaan was furious that this arrogant, infuriating general,”  _ just like Obi-Wan _ , “had resisted her for so long. In her anger, she dissipated so much that the tip of the general's sword rubbed against the skin of her arm, creating a bleeding wound.”

Satine took a look at her audience, noting that they stared at her with varying degrees of interest. However, when she glanced at her favourite, a young Pantoran one, she stared at her as if mesmerized. 

Satine couldn't help smiling at those golden, excited eyes. She took a deep breath and started over.

“However, to everyone's surprise, and definitely to the greatest surprise of herself, seeing the trickle of blood running down her arm, Akaan did not feel overwhelmed by revenge, her wounded pride did not cry. The goddess was impressed. She was impressed because no warrior had ever been equal to her in battle before. Never had any of the warriors been up to her skill. Never had any of them hurt her.

“She decided that the general would train with her from now on. Since then, he has become her inseparable partner in duels and sparrings. They learned each other's movements, their methods, their weaknesses and their best points. Together they became invincible. They were like two halves of a yogan fruit. But apart from this extraordinary bond developed in the sweat and hours of merciless training, there were also conversations and moments of peace. There were walks in the fortress and the woods, and there were boat rides to watch the sky above the planet. And it was in these quiet moments that the goddess realized that she had a heart after all, and one that loved no less.

“You see, Akaan realized that she loved Cyare. She loved him with all her heart for being equal to her. For complementing her weaknesses and for improving her best sides. She loved him for his strategic sense, for his courage and passion, but also for his softer side, for his gentleness, for his knowledge of stars and planets. 

“Nevertheless, her pride was a powerful feeling and she decided to keep her love for him to herself. She enjoyed his presence, and during the battles, she cut off all thoughts from his person to focus only on the fight. It was enough for her that he was right next to her, that she could hear his voice, saw his handsome face and a tangle of blond hair.

“Everything changed when for the first time Akaan began losing a battle. Her army was declining at an alarming rate, and even her efforts could not help the warriors who one by one fell to their death. In the end, only two warriors remained on the battlefield. Akaan and Cyare, with a dozen or so enemy warriors facing them. They bravely resisted their enemies until only one of them remained.

“Cyare caught him, but before the enemy warrior died, he stabbed his dagger right into the general's heart. The man fell to the ground, and Akaan leapt at him in horror. She quickly realized that Cyare was dying. She couldn't let it happen, so she decided to use her gift. A gift she got from her father. The gift of giving life. She put both hands on his chest, closed her eyes and closed his wound, saving his life. 

“Cyare asked her then, ‘Why have you done this?’. Akaan smiled and said ‘Because of my love for you.’. As it turned out, the feeling was mutual. The goddess kissed the mortal who revived her heart, and from that moment on she was known as the goddess of war and love, and the name of her beloved, Cyare, became a Mandalorian term for the person that you love.”

Until now, Satine had been so engrossed in her story that she hadn't even realized that Obi-Wan had appeared in the group of people listening to her.

She didn't realize it until she noticed she was staring at him as she finished her story. 

His warm, extremely smug smile only confirmed that. 

She felt a warmth flooding her cheeks and she was sure that the slightest blush must have appeared on them, judging from that unbearable smile on his face, so she turned her head quickly, glancing at many faces, and stopped at the most faithful listener.

“Oh my,” said the Pantoran girl, staring at her dreamily. “It was a beautiful story. But I have one question.”

“Yes, my dear?”

“If his name has a meaning, does her name have a meaning too?”

Satine smiled. “ _ Akaan _ means war in my language.”

“War and love.” the girl said softly. “Does it always go hand in hand?”

“Not always,” Satine replied, lifting her head slightly to glance at Obi-Wan. “But when it is so, you can be sure that the feeling thus born will not fade away.”

**x x x x x**

Obi-Wan spent nearly half an hour searching for the owner of the ring. He checked in the Force for people who might have emanated with anxiety or nervousness, but after a few short, fruitless conversations, he gave up on further searching.

He considered taking the ring back to Senator Clovis, but on the way to him, he heard a beautiful, melodic voice that could not be mistaken.

Satine was sitting on one of the chairs, surrounded by a group of guests listening to her. When Obi-Wan stopped by some elder woman, his gaze immediately went to the Mandalorian duchess.

When she finished her story, she looked at him and he couldn't help but smile. He wanted to come up to her, talk to her, but he had to wait for it.

It took several long minutes for the crowd to part and the curious little Pantoran was finally dragged away with an apologetic smile by Senator Chuchi.

Obi-Wan walked over to the table and sat down next to Satine.

“You're a born storyteller, my dear,” he said, wincing slightly as the box in his pocket bit into a particularly sensitive spot. He took it out and set it on the table. “You have a really nice, soothing voice. You could record the stories you read, you know? I'm sure many would pay for being able to hear a Mandalorian Duchess reading bedtime stories to children. Or reading any book for teenagers, to school.” he rubbed his chin. “Hmm, I think you could read the droid manual, and still–”

He broke off abruptly as he turned his head to find Satine wasn't looking at him or even listening to him but was staring at the box with interest. 

_ Open box. _

_ Open box with a ring. _

_ Force. Not good.  _

_ You idiot, why did you take it out, because what, because you couldn't stand a little thing sticking into your– _

“This is for me?” Satine asked after a long moment, stroking the edge of the box with a pale, slender finger.

Her voice was so filled with hope that–

_ You're a complete idiot. And what now? What are you going to tell her? You stupid, dumb– _

“Umm, no?” he muttered, scratching the back of his head. Satine looked at him so quickly that he was surprised her neck hadn't let out a crack. He cleared his throat. “I mean, not really. I… Actually…” 

He was still amazed at how easily all his eloquence escaped when he dealt with this woman. How easy it was for him to stutter or lose confidence in his voice when he spoke to her, or when she looked at him with those blue ocean eyes.

“No, it's not for you,” he said awkwardly, not looking at her.

“Oh,” she said simply. She took her hand from the box and stared at it for a moment. She glanced at Obi-Wan, then back at the box, then smiled tightly, which looked more like a frown after eating something sour. “I see. Forgive me, but I have to…”

She stood up quickly and started walking away from the table at a surprisingly quick pace. Obi-Wan sprang from his chair without thinking and followed, leaving the problematic box on the table. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's gonna get better in the next chapter, I SWEAR!!!


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the ring finally slips on the right finger, Anakin and Padmé are not subtle again, chaos breaks loose and Ahsoka saves the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely had too much fun writing this chapter. I will not reveal anything more.

It was _not_ true that Anakin showed an unhealthy interest in the relationship between his master and the Duchess of Mandalore. It was _completely untrue_. An _outright_ _lie._

Anakin just liked to witness their weird advances and flirting that a normal person would take for insults.

He didn’t understand why the two were so stubborn, especially when the Force was on their side, and developing this… whatever it was between them, was no longer forbidden.

Nor was it true that Anakin was watching them all the time. 

It just so happened that he wasn't talking to Ahsoka or Padmé at the moment, so a bit out of boredom and a bit out of curiosity he decided to watch Obi-Wan and Satine.

From this distance, he couldn't see exactly what was the subject of their brief conversation, but whatever it was, there must have been some sort of disagreement.

After all, something must have been the reason why the Duchess left the table so abruptly, and his master followed her without hesitation.

_Alright_ , Anakin's curiosity could be problematic at times, but this time Anakin might be grateful for this because when he walked over to the table intending to see what had caused the lovers’ quarrel, he realized that he was looking at a familiar box.

A box with a ring. _Padmé’s_ ring.

“Here you are!” he exclaimed, picking the box up and ignoring a few people who shot him weird looks from the other table.

He had to find his wife, but it wasn't too difficult.

She was standing by the open balcony door, talking to Bail Organa.

Anakin approached them and bowed his head. “Senator Amidala, Senator Organa.”

“Master Skywalker,” Bail replied, smiling at him. “Are you also here to get some fresh air?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Anakin replied, glancing at Padmé. “Hope I'm not interrupting.”

Padmé raised an eyebrow, but it was Bail who answered him. “Not at all. We've actually finished talking. I promised Breha that I would be back soon, we were supposed to dance,” he added, and a smile appeared on his face. Anakin noticed the Alderaanian senator giving them a strange look. “Hope to see you again tonight. Have fun.”

Anakin watched him for a moment before turning to Padme. “Don't you think he was a little weird?”

“Weird?” Padmé frowned slightly. “No, he was just nice.”

“Sure,” Anakin muttered, then looked at her with a smile. “What about we take a walk in the garden, Angel?”

Padmé gave him a warm smile. “Lead the way.”

In silence, they walked across the room to the Senate Gardens. Anakin had the strange feeling that some of the guests looked at them strangely.

“Padmé, do I have something on my face?”

“No, why?”

“Haven't you noticed those looks?”

But when Padmé turned her head, all those staring at them suddenly stopped looking at them.

“Nevermind,” he muttered, and for another minute or two they walked in silence.

They went out into the fresh air. The night was still young, though the sky was already graphite marked by thousands of bright white points. The moonlight mixed with the light from the lanterns fell over Coruscant and the gardens, creating a beautiful, atmospheric aura.

Anakin looked around, but not noticing anyone nearby, he grabbed Padmé's hand and turned with her down one of the alleys. They stopped at one of the benches and sat down on it.

“Padmé, I have this ring,” he announced once they were seated comfortably.

Padmé looked at him a little angrily. “You were supposed to go get it after the ball!”

“I didn't go anywhere to get it!” he answered defensively. “I found it!”

“You found it,” Padmé repeated. “How? It called you? It was screaming in the Force ‘Hey, I'm here, I'm waiting for you!’?”

“No, it started flying around the room and jumping in front of my face,” Anakin replied solemnly, his newly developed sarcasm clear in his voice.

Padmé sighed. Anakin sighed too.

Padmé looked at him. Anakin looked at her.

Padmé smiled. Anakin wanted to smile too but finally realized the box was digging painfully into his thigh.

He pulled it out, opened it, and took out a small ring.

“Can I?” he asked, holding out his hand. Padmé offered him her hand, and after a moment Anakin slipped the ring right onto her finger. “Here you are.”

Padmé held her hand up, twisting it, watching it in the mixture of natural and artificial light reflected in the crystal as black as a starless sky.

“I have to admit I did not expect from you such a taste for jewellery.”

“You see, I have my moments.”

Padmé shrugged innocently. “Yeah, sometimes.” 

Anakin stared at her beautiful, delicate face shrouded in the moonlight for a moment. She was breathtaking. And he was happy to be her husband.

“I want to kiss you,” he said suddenly.

Padmé smirked. “So what are you waiting for?”

Anakin leaned in close to her, and they were only inches apart when a piercing crash sounded above them.

They pulled away from each other quickly and looked above where the speaker produced a series of sounds hurtful for ears.

Finally, a voice came out. 

_“Dear guests, we invite you to a dance show in the gardens that will be followed by a firework show…”_

_Damn party._

“Padmé?”

“Yes, Ani?”

“Let's go to the roof, it will be more... private there.”

She smiled radiantly.

**x x x x x**

Ahsoka watched the dances taking place in the middle of the gardens for a few minutes, but quickly got bored. Standing in the middle of the crowd alone, with no one known to her side, wasn't the most comfortable, so she thought she'd go look for Anakin or Obi-Wan.

She looked from side to side as she walked towards the Senate building. She was sure that she had passed Anakin and Padmé as she walked in the opposite direction, but as she watched the crowd now, they were nowhere to be found. 

She preferred not to wonder where they might have gone. It would be better for her. So she decided to focus on looking for Obi-Wan.

She didn't have to look for him long. He was standing at the top of the stairs, talking lively with Senator of Spicio, Rush Clovis.

Ahsoka approached them with a polite smile, catching the words of her master.

“–I have no idea where it is. I left it on the table and when I came back it was gone.”

“You were supposed to find the owner, not lose it again.” the senator replied in a slightly irritated voice.

Obi-Wan snapped. “Or maybe the owner just found it and took it?”

“Or some thief.”

“Or the owner after all,” Obi-Wan replied firmly, turning his head towards the Togruta girl. “Hello, Ahsoka.”

“Hello, Master, Senator,” Ahsoka replied nodding her head. “If I can ask, what happened?”

“Well–”

“Master Kenobi,” Senator Clovis said sharply, ignoring the Jedi Master's stern gaze. “Was supposed to find the owner of the ring I found in the ballroom, but he failed. What's more, he also lost it.”

“I didn't lose it–”

“You left it, and now it’s gone. I see no difference.”

Obi-Wan glanced at his communicator with a sigh, his eyebrows shot up for a split second, then he brought the negotiator mask to his face, and when he spoke, his tone was rather calm.

“Senator, forgive me, but I have some business to attend to.”

Ahsoka raised one white eyebrow and glanced at her communicator, noting that it was the time Anakin and they agreed to meet on the roof. 

Probably that was what Obi-Wan was after too.

Rush Clovis looked sceptical at them, then looked out over the garden. “Whatever it is, I advise you to hurry up. The dances come to an end, and then there will be a lights show. It's best to watch it from the roof.”

_Where I am going to go,_ has been left unsaid.

“Funny, we were headed there,” Obi-Wan said a bit stiffly, and Ahsoka winced sympathetically.

At a wave of his hand, she moved forward, leaving them behind, meeting none other than the Mandalorian Duchess at the bottom of the stairs.

“Your Highness.” she bowed her head.

“Padawan Tano.” the Duchess replied, glancing at her with a smile. “Are you going to the roof too?”

“Yes. I was told the fireworks will look better from there.”

“So there are two of us then,” she said, and they both started climbing up the stairs.

Talking politely to the Duchess, she glanced over her shoulder halfway up the stairs, noting that Obi-Wan and Senator Clovis–who were de facto looking like they were arguing again and completely not paying any attention to their surroundings–were now walking behind them.

At the sound of their conversation, the Duchess glanced over her shoulder as well, something between anger and irritation on her face. But she only raised an eyebrow before looking straight ahead, quickening her pace a little. 

“Do you know the reason why they are so agitated?” she suddenly asked, looking at Ahsoka.

“Umm, they had an argument over some ring,” Ahsoka said, frowning. “Master Obi-Wan was supposed to find the owner of this ring, but he left it somewhere and now it's nowhere to be found.”

“Oh.” Duchess Satine didn't say a word more, but from the sudden change in her force-signature and posture, Ahsoka could deduce that the woman felt something between nervousness, confusion and utter embarrassment.

_Interesting_.

The two of them finally reached the top of the stairs and stepped onto the roof, but almost immediately stopped dead, for Anakin and Padmé were standing in front of them.

However, they did not talk, nor did they watch the sky, but they _kissed_.

They kissed as if the rest of the world didn't exist.

“Skyguy?” Ahsoka croaked after a moment of shock, and Anakin jumped away from Senator of Naboo as if burned.

“Ahsoka!” exclaimed Padmé, flushing. She looked surprised and confused, but the real panic was yet to come.

“Oh, they're setting up the machines.” Rush Clovis said from somewhere down the stairs. 

Padmé looked like an animal caught in the spotlight, she pushed Anakin forward as far away from her as possible with such force that the poor man lost his balance and with a few heavy strides ran straight into the Duchess, just as Obi-Wan and Rush Clovis appeared upstairs.

Obi-Wan's face at the sight of his own ex-Padawan who, in his desperate attempt to regain balance, now had his hands on the waist of Mandalorian ruler, his cheeks drenched in the strong blush that the blonde developed too, while she rested her hands on his chest to steady him in place–it was priceless. 

Padmé covered her face with her hands.

Obi-Wan kept opening his mouth as if to say something, but closed it immediately, looking like a fish pulled out of the water.

Rush Clovis laughed awkwardly as he watched Anakin and the Duchess. “We came at the wrong time?”

Anakin turned his head, looked at the Duchess, blushed even more, and quickly took his hands away. He crossed his hands behind his back, clearing his throat. “Uh, umm, thank you, Satine,” he muttered awkwardly.

Obi-Wan was looking at his Padawan now with an almost comic shock on his face. “What are you thanking her for?”

“Uh, umm, for–”

“For their... their engagement!” Padmé exclaimed.

Obi-Wan turned his head so abruptly that something snapped in the neck. He looked at Anakin, then at Satine. “ _Engagement?!_ ”

“No, I–” Satine began, looking at him with as much shock as he at her. She gave the brunette a sharp look. “Padmé!”

Ahsoka slapped her hand on her forehead.

Rush Clovis smiled broadly. “Engagement! How wonderful, congratulations! Although I didn't think that between Master Skywalker and the Duchess of Mandalore... I mean I heard something about some Jedi, but I would never–”

Ahsoka had never seen Duchess Satine so red in her face. She was so used to her pale skin that the rich blush on her cheeks looked phenomenal.

“We don't–” Anakin began, but paused, not really knowing what to say.

He looked pleadingly at Padmé, who was looking in turn at Rush Clovis, who was directing his gaze between the Duchess and Anakin.

Ahsoka looked at Obi-Wan, who was looking at Satine, who was looking at him in turn. 

_What a chaos._

“I don't–, we don't–, nothing between us–, I barely–” each of Anakin's attempts was only more devastating.

Satine finally closed her eyes, and when she opened them after taking a deep breath, her face was less red. “Obi-Wan, I know this sounds unbelievable, but–”

“Unbelievable?!” his voice jumped a good octave. “Engagement, what kind of engagement, what in the Force–”

“I didn't mean _the engagement_!” Padmé interjected quickly, waving her hand briskly, but Obi-Wan paid no attention to her. “I meant their engagement in saving this–”

But Ahsoka was watching her closely. And out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flash. At once her attention was drawn to a black diamond ring shining on the senator's finger. Ahsoka was sure that Padmé's hand had been bare earlier that evening.

And Senator Clovis and Obi-Wan said something about the ring… Ahsoka quickly joined the threads.

“Wait a minute!” she said loudly and everyone looked at her. She turned to Obi-Wan. “Master, isn't that the ring you lost?”

Obi-Wan frowned, then looked at Padmé's hand. He frowned even more. “The very same.”

“What?” now it was Rush Clovis who sounded surprised. He looked at Padmé. “It was for you?”

“Me, uh–” 

“Yes,” Anakin finally replied, taking a step toward the senator. There were pride and a little triumph on his face now. “And that's a gift from me.”

“From you?!” Senator Clovis and Obi-Wan exclaimed at the same time.

Satine took a few steps towards the brunette. “Are you getting married?”

“No,” Padmé replied, and a smile flashed across Senator of Spicio's face for a moment. “We're already married.”

“What?!” Obi-Wan and Senator Clovis exclaimed in unison again, throwing each other a strange look. 

Obi-Wan looked sharply at his former Padawan. “Anakin ?!”

Anakin swallowed nervously. “Yes, master?”

“Why didn't you tell me?!” and when he asked about it, he sounded offended. “Why didn't you tell the Council?!”

“Be–because Padmé didn't want to,” he muttered reluctantly.

“Why?”

Padmé exhaled loudly, slowly returning to her usual self. When she spoke, she was looking at Senator Clovis. “Because of you, Rush. I didn't want to hurt you and I wanted to wait for the right moment to tell you. I... You are my friend and I appreciate you very much, I really do. But... You never really had a chance with me. I and Anakin have been married for three years.”

“ _For how many_?!” 

Ahsoka looked at Obi-Wan with a chuckle. She had never seen him so outraged. And she had never heard him so squeaky. 

She laughed aloud when Duchess Satine patted him comfortingly on the shoulder.

Everyone looked at Ahsoka.

“That,” she gasped, covering her mouth after a moment. “Forgive me, but this is such a ridiculous situation that I couldn't help myself.”

“By the stars,” muttered Rush Clovis. “Padmé, you could have said right away, I would have understood…”

Padmé smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“I understand,” he replied, smiling back at her. He looked briefly at Anakin and nodded his head as if approvingly. He then turned to Duchess Satine, and Ahsoka pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at his expression. “Duchess Satine, would you like to go out–”

“No!” Obi-Wan and Satine shouted immediately.

They looked at each other.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, Satine straightened, looking at the senator.

“Ah…” said Rush Clovis, looking between the couple. He wiggled his eyebrows, smiling suggestively. “I see... Then I'm not going to come between anyone. Enjoy the show!”

He said, then turned and began to descend from the roof.

Ahsoka started to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dum, dum, duuuuuuum...


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a REAL accidental engagement, and Padmé and Ahsoka outvote poor Anakin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As is customary for this story, it had to be fluff, had to be sass, and had to end up cute. Hope I didn't let you down!

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly through his mouth.

As he turned his head towards Anakin, he was looking at him with an awkward smile. “For how long did you say you've been married?”

Anakin coughed, clenching his mechanical hand nervously. “For three years.”

“We got married after the first battle of Geonosis,” added Padmé, staring out of the corner of her eye at her husband.

_ Husband. _

_ Anakin was her husband. _

“Then I think congratulations are in order,” Satine said gracefully, diplomatic as always. Often. Usually. 

“Thank you,” Padmé replied, playing with the ring on her finger.

Obi-Wan looked at the ring as if it had hurt him. “You don't even know how much trouble I had because of that ring you lost, Anakin.”

“I didn't lose it!” he denied quickly, staring accusingly at his wife. “Padmé put the box on the table and–”

“Oh, don't even start,” Padmé interrupted. “It's not my fault the droids here are overzealous!”

“You may have not put it down.” he countered.

“I had it literally at my fingertips,” she replied firmly, then smiled at the rest of the crowd on the roof. “I'm sorry for him, he is  _ ill-mannered _ –”

“Me,  _ ill-mannered– _ ” he repeated indignantly. “I am very well-mannered. Obi-Wan, tell her!”

Obi-Wan merely raised an eyebrow. “I'm afraid  _ your wife _ knows what she's saying, Anakin.”

“This is blatant betrayal,” he replied, looking at them with the expression of an offended teenager. “And this is the second time you are undermining my reputation in front of my Padawan, Master! And in less than two hours!”

Obi-Wan did not seem to be moved by this accusation. “I haven't undermined anything. What are you like, everyone can see.”

Anakin narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, but as his eyes moved a little lower, a small smile appeared on his lips.

Obi-Wan, curious about his observation, also glanced at the same spot, and only now noticed that Satine's hand, which had previously comfortably patted his shoulder, was still resting on top of his robes.

He looked at the blonde with both eyebrows raised, and Satine, realizing after a few seconds that she was being watched, looked at him as well.

Obi-Wan nodded slightly at his shoulder. Satine looked there, then looked at his face again, eyes wide and innocent. “I like your arm very much.”

“And not just the arm,” Anakin muttered, coughing immediately.

Obi-Wan shot him a sharp look, Padmé pursed her lips, Ahsoka put her hand over her face, and Satine blushed even though her eyes glittered with amusement.

“That's true,” she said, looking straight at Anakin while stroking Obi-Wan's shoulder. “Do you have any opposition?”

Anakin wanted to say something, he already had that wide smile on his lips, but Padmé slapped him on the shoulder. “Hush,” she said, pointing her hand at Ahsoka, but staring intensely in Anakin's eyes as if she wanted to convey something to him with just her eyes.

Anakin stared at her for a moment before apparently having a sudden revelation because he looked at Ahsoka. “Snips, are you coming with us–”

“Yes!” Ahsoka replied immediately, glancing fleetingly at Obi-Wan and Satine, then began walking quickly towards the stairs. “I’ve heard they are giving out some delicious champagne at the show!”

“You're seventeen–”

“That's champagne, Skyguy!” she shouted as she made her way down the stairs.

“It's alcohol!” Anakin replied, “I forbid you!” he shouted back louder, racing close behind her.

Padmé shook her head, glancing at them with a smile. “Sometimes I feel like a mother of two,” she said with a slight laugh and started walking down the stairs as well. “Have a nice show, lovebirds!”

A few seconds of silence passed before Obi-Wan glanced at Satine. “Lovebirds?”

Satine raised an eyebrow, took her hand from his shoulder, and replied coolly. “I don't know what she was talking about.”

She turned away from him, walking towards the edge of the roof framed by the railings. Obi-Wan followed her, surprised at the sudden change of tone.

“Something happened?” he asked, standing next to her and looking at her profile. 

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn't tell you what?”

“You didn't tell me you were looking for the owner of this ring.”

Obi-Wan was silent for a moment, sighing at last. “You run away… Besides, with you, I always lose my verbal skills.”

“A nice word for utter stupidity.” Satine looked at him. “But I should also apologize to you. I was completely frivolous in drawing such far-reaching conclusions, especially since I had no reason to think that you could propose to me,” she said a little quieter, clearly ashamed. “Especially after you said yourself you didn't want to and–”

She broke off as Obi-Wan put his hand on hers, which gripped the railing. She glanced at their hands, then at him with the question clearly in her eyes. 

“It's not that I wouldn't want to…” he began slowly, awkwardly. “I just feel uncomfortable with the fact that the Jedi Order would  _ benefit _ from my marriage, and political marriage, for-profit, is not my cup of tea at all…” he explained, looking at the people gathered in the gardens. “And that doesn't mean I wouldn't want to marry you, that's not the point at all, it's just that I'm not going to be some kind of husband for a political cause, but it has absolutely nothing to do with you, my dear. The vision of marrying you does not scare me at all, it's not that it's my nightmare and something I despise, on the contrary, it's quite a nice idea, and sometimes I even wondered what it would be like to be your husband and be able to start a family with you, and not only recently, but I was also wondering about it during the war and before the war and after  _ that mission _ all those years ago, and sometimes when Anakin made me angry, I thought about it too and…” 

He paused, to get a breath. Until then, he had not been aware of how much oxygen he lacked. 

And now he noticed that Satine had been watching him closely all this time, now watching him with wide, surprised eyes focused completely on his face. “Really?’ she whispered without twitching.

“Really what?” Obi-Wan asked, also not twitching a centimetre. “Did I really dream about it? Yes. Have I really thought about it all these years? Of course. Would I really like this? With all my heart.”

“Go on, please” she whispered, leaning slightly closer to him. “I want to hear it.”

He smiled slightly. “I love you Satine,” he said in a soft, warm voice, looking straight into her oceanic blue eyes. “I've always loved you.”

Satine smiled, leaning even closer. “I've always known that,” she admitted, turning her hand over and twisting their fingers together. “And I love you too.” she leaned even closer. “And I accept your proposal.”

“I’m glad,” he replied, leaning closer to her face. Centimetres separated them when suddenly Obi-Wan breathed sharply and tilted his head back, staring at her with wide eyes. “ _ What proposal?! _ ”

“Your proposal,” she replied. “You said you loved me and that you dreamed of being my husband, and I told you that only then would I give you my hand.”

Obi-Wan frowned, mentally feeling the gears spinning in his head. 

_ Proposal _ .  _ Marriage _ .

_ No, no, no! _

_ But… When giving it another thought... _

_ It doesn't sound all that bad…  _

“And even if you don't have the ring, I don't mind. I don't wear them anyway,” she added with a smile.

Obi-Wan returned the smile.

He raised a hand to her face and stroked the back of his fingers over her cheek. She closed her eyes gently, looking at him after a moment from under her lashes.

_ She loves me, I love her... Why not?  _

“Then there's no need to delay any longer,” he said, sliding his fingers under her chin and tilting her head slightly. “My beautiful fiancee.”

Her eyes sparkled even brighter, reminding him of the tiny escaping bubbles in a champagne glass. 

He leaned down and kissed her as the first fireworks flashed across the sky. 

**x x x x x**

As the first fireworks lit up the sky of Coruscant, Padmé glanced over her shoulder to the roof of the Senate and a broad, satisfied smile spread across her face.

“Hey, Ani,” she said, nudging him with her elbow. “Look at the roof.”

Anakin turned–so non-subtly that it also caught the Ahsoka’s attention, who stood next to him–and on his face came shock at first, and then an excited, almost childlike smile. “I knew it!”

“Finally!” Ahsoka added, turning to them. “It took us over two years…”

“And it took them over fifteen,” Anakin interjected, shaking his head. “I can't believe this is happening. Someone pinch me.”

Ahsoka willingly complied with his request. 

Anakin looked at her indignantly. 

“Ouch?” he muttered, looking at her reproachfully. “I joked!”

“Oh, sorry Skyguy,” Ahsoka smiled sweetly, which proved that she was not sorry at all. “You have to work on your use of irony.”

His eyes narrowed. “You spend way too much time with Obi-Wan. He has a bad influence on you.”

“If I can, my dear husband,” Padmé interjected, winking at Ahsoka. “I believe she got only the best from Obi-Wan.”

“Like?”

“Dramatic robe-dropping…” suggested Ahsoka.

“I do that too!”

“Personal charm…” suggested Padmé.

“I have a charm too!”

“Thinking before doing…” added Ahsoka.

“I think–”

Padmé raised her eyebrows. “You? Definitely not–”

“I'm a responsible man!” Anakin was indignant, looking from one side to the other, once at his wife, once at his padawan. “I am very responsible!”

“Any evidence?”

“Still teaching you?” he asked, looking at Ahsoka. “And we’re still alive?”

“We only live because we were both taught by Obi-Wan–”

Anakin took a deep breath, clearly wanting to argue further, but suddenly shut his mouth, blinked a few times, and sighed thoughtfully. “You're actually right.”

Ahsoka smiled at Padmé. “We are always right.”

“Yes, Ani, listen to us.”

Anakin looked up at the sky glowing with colours. “But on the other hand,” he began after several seconds. “I saved Obi-Wan from a tragic death at least nine times.”

“Eight,” said Ahsoka lightly. “The mission on Cato Neimodia does not count.”

Padmé frowned. “What happened at Cato Neimodia?”

Anakin looked at Ahsoka and suddenly they both started laughing.

Finally, Anakin muttered. “You don't want to know, Angel. You do not want to know.”

Padmé looked at him sceptically, but then focused all her attention on the sky and rested her head on her husband's shoulder.

Anakin put his arm on her waist and wrapped the other around Ahsoka's shoulders, also pulling her close to him.

“Uh, Skyguy, change your perfume,” she muttered, wrinkling her nose. “These smell terribly.”

Padmé chuckled. “I told him the same thing, but he wouldn't listen to me,” she said, glancing at him. “Now you are outvoted, Ani.”

“Then I will surrender,” he replied with a smile, then bowed his head and kissed her gently. 

“Ugh,” Ahsoka muttered on the other side. “Now I will have to have my eyes around my head because wherever I turn, there is a possibility that I will come across something I wish I hadn't seen. Never.”

Anakin moved away from Padmé and, without taking his eyes off her face, answered Ahsoka. “So learn to knock.”

“Ani!” Padmé muttered, feeling a twinge of sympathy for poor Ahsoka. 

“Thanks, Master.”

Anakin straightened up and Padmé laid her head on his shoulder again.

They looked at the lights colouring the sky.

Padmé thought she loved their strange little family. Her husband, his pesky Jedi-siblings and their dear future sister-in-law.

And let it stay that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPILY EVER AFTER!
> 
> Thanks for all your comments, kudos and bookmarks. You don't even know what joy it brought me. I love you all ♥.   
> See you soon!


End file.
